


Making The Band

by sunsetglow (suchfun)



Category: 2PM, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Doctor Who, Apparently every time I switch fandoms I need to write a fusion fic to ease me into it, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchfun/pseuds/sunsetglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor promises to return with band members—"Seven!" King JYP insists, waving around the planet's self-destruct button like a sparkler, "I need seven members to match my spaceship collection or they <i>won't match</i>!"—within the next standard week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making The Band

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://morago.livejournal.com/2357.html) in June 2010. My first 2PM and last Doctor Who fic. It was a tumultuous time.

After a few days where the only exciting thing to happen to him is a haircut, the Doctor accidentally stops JYPE's King, known very originally as King JYP, from blowing up his planet, just in the nick of time. 

Upon further examination, involving some petulant whining (JYP) and some sanctimonious yelling (the Doctor), it is revealed that the King is depressed and needs cheering up, or else he might not be able to stop himself from pressing the self-destruct button in all of his misery. He wants entertainment, apparently, and when one of his advisors, a young-ish creature introduced as Minjae, suggests a band, JYP falls in complete and utter adoration with the idea. The only problem is, somewhat ironically and predictably, that all natives of planet JYPE are completely inept at anything to do with music.

This predicament leaves them with only one option: forming a band from off-planet. And, since JYPE-ians are also completely allergic to space, the Doctor is the only one to help form it. The King's subjects come to this conclusion almost simultaneously, all turning to him with wide eyes, and, really, he'd have to be a complete bastard to say no.

The Doctor, though, finds himself balking at the idea of travelling around space, recruiting people for a band like some kind of… of… _recruiter_. He is a Time Lord, damn it, and he saves the universe, _multiple universes_ , not forms bands.

However, since it seems to be the only way to stop JYP from killing millions of people and destroying a planet which isn't destroyed in any future timelines so obviously that means he needs to uphold this particular deal, the Doctor has no choice but to agree.

He promises to return with band members—"Seven!" King JYP squeals, waving around the planet's self-destruct button like a sparkler, "I need seven members to match my spaceship collection or they _won't match_!"—within the next standard week.

+

The planet B-Boy is the logical first choice. According to Minjae, King JYP adores theatrics and acrobatics, so it's imperative the band include elements of both, and there is no-one better at either than a B-Boyer.

B-Boyers are typically short, built and incredible dancers, a tribe of humans living their lives according to the 'ghetto lifestyle' picked up from old Earth rap music and movies, and speaking a bastardised version of English called Gangsta.

The Doctor takes his time when he arrives, deciding to begin by finding a leader—someone smart, strong, sensible and with the obvious ability to lead six other men. He has an idea in his head of a roguish thin man, with brown hair and a brown coat, who looks remarkably like him, just shorter and with more specialized dancing skills.

Jay is none of those things, but he is certainly the best performer, and when the Doctor sees him slide on his head, he is immediately sold.

"Hello!" he says, approaching him after the competition where he's resting with his crew, giving him a little wave. "You were fantastic out there."

"Yeah, I know, aight?" He grins widely and fist-bumps one of the guys behind him before crossing his arms, turning back to the Doctor. "Who are you, den? You lookin' fo' some action?" He half stands, baring his teeth, and so do his homies, ready for a fight.

"Nope, no, not at all, I just think you're very talented."

He still looks suspicious. "Yeah, dat's what dey all say, man, but dey just frontin'. What chu want?"

"I'd like to offer you a job."

"Ha! Yeah, aight. You keep trippin, man. Peace." He turns away, but a woman, not much taller than him and almost as well-built, appears and grabs him by the shoulders.

"Jaebum. I think you should listen to what the brotha has ta say."

He looks annoyed. "Ma! Stop messin' wit' ma flow, man!"

"Jaebum!" she scolds, before turning to the Doctor, her grip vice-like around her son's shoulders. "Sorry, yo. My son needs ta learn himself some manners, real quick." She squeezes harder, and Jay flinches. "You were sayin'?"

In the end, it's almost too easy—he explains most of the situation and assures them that Jay will be well looked after, and then, after his mother leaves them alone to finish their discussion, all he has to do is promise Jay the probability of "honeys and monies" and the boy is enthusiasm at its best.

+

Taecyeon is the first guy the Doctor sees as he opens the door of the TARDIS. The males on this planet are, converse to Jay's characteristics, well known for their height and large facial features, along with a reputation for having the worst dress sense in the galaxy. Taecyeon is no exception. As well as having quite possibly the biggest teeth known to humankind, he sports the most unfortunate pair of glittery orange plastic glasses the Doctor has ever seen. 

He seems to be in the middle of a photoshoot, actually _modeling_ the glasses—the giveaway is all the giant replica glasses strewn around, which are practically blinding to the eye—and the Doctor is, once again, exceptionally glad that his control over his senses is so strong.

"You there, model in the glasses," he calls, waving madly.

The model looks up, looks around him, then points to himself questioningly.

Right. So, he's a bit like that, then. "Yes, you," the Doctor confirms, beckoning again.

He has a rather amusingly confused expression on his face, but he brushes off the make-up artists and comes over anyway. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor, and I—"

But one of the background models disrupts their conversation by knocking into Taecyeon, shoving him into the TARDIS, and Taecyeon whips around, glasses flashing, confusion replaced by fierceness.

"Wotch where you be trippin', man," he snarls in a familiar accent, glaring at the guy before turning back and rolling his eyes. "Sorry. That dude's been trying to sabotage me all day."

"Hold on. You just spoke Gangsta." The Doctor frowns. "You know Gangsta?"

"I lived on B-Boy for a while. Why? Got a problem with that?" The kid tries to look tough. The sparkly specs hinder that effort.

The Doctor grins. "Excellent! Want to be in a boy band on another planet?"

"I can't sing," he says slowly.

"Pfft, since when did that matter? That's what autotune is for. Or rapping."

He considers this. "True. What's in it for me?"

"Companionship, fame, and hard work. Hard to resist, isn't it?"

"Is dis who chu want?" Jay interrupts, sticking his head around the door. He frowns, taking in the other boy's stature. "Nah, man, no hizzle. He too tall, let's keep lookin', brah."

"Who yo callin' too tall, man?" Taecyeon takes a step forward, switching to Gangsta effortlessly. "Maybe yo mama jus' too short, aight?"

Jay bristles, and the Doctor gets ready to whip out the sonic screwdriver in the event of a disagreement, but then Jay just laughs and says, "Nah, brah, he aight," and slips back inside.

The Doctor holds the door open wider. "Welcome to the band."

Taecyeon shrugs and steps inside.

+

They find Nichkhun completely by accident, when Jay is in the middle of attempting to hit Taec with the mallet and smacks it into the console, instead. The TARDIS banks and shifts dramatically, shoving his two passengers together, and they clutch onto each other, eyes wide, until the Doctor lands them (relatively) safely.

"We are," he squints at the viewscreen, "completely off-course, but honestly, I'm not sure that even matters, because this'll probably do, anyway. Come on," he calls over his shoulder, dashing to the door, before turning and adding, complete with full Oncoming Storm expression, "and, may I just add, if either of you touch that console without my permission again I will fly you to the nearest black hole and drop you inside. I've done it before."

Jay gulps and carefully hangs the mallet back up, and they both follow him out. They seem to have ended up in the middle of some sort of festival, and the Doctor grins as he soaks up the environment, indulging, for a moment, in the familiar rush of the unfamiliar. 

"Right, you two," he turns suddenly, and Jay and Taecyeon stop just short of running into him, "look for someone boyband-y."

"Like who?" Taec asks, and Jay whacks him upside the head.

"Seriously, brah, you frontin' fo' real? Like pretty 'n' shit. We need summin' for the shorties to love, aight?"

"Exactly. The truth is, most females are attracted to pretty men." The Doctor rubs his own cheek, trying not to sound too smug. "It's a curse."

"What about him?" Taec says, ignoring him and pointing at a guy standing quietly, waiting, in front of the restrooms. He's tall, relatively muscular, and obscenely pretty. His eyebrows are rather exemplary, but that really only adds to his charm.

They stand and watch as a woman, not looking where she's going, walks right into him and turns to him in anger, only to (almost literally, for her species) melt as the guy smiles at her in apology. The transformation is incredible.

"Perfect," says the Doctor, in no way doubting his own sexual preferences just a tiny bit. He squares his shoulders and moves forward, making sure that his coat has just the right amount of lift so as to be impressive, but not intimidating, as he approaches. 

+

Khun takes a shine to one of the dancers straight away, one with puffy cheeks who moves like liquid.

"That one," he says, pointing him out with a long, delicate finger. "He's the best."

The dancer in question executes a twist-and-spin, fluttering his fan around his face in a complicated manoeuvre, and the Doctor nods. "Molte bene, indeed."

"Wot?" Jay tugs his shoulder and jumps up, trying to see over their shoulders. "Wot chu sayin'?"

"Nothing. Taec?" He gestures to Jay and Taec picks him up, carrying him backwards, and because Nichkhun seems to the most sensible member so far, it seems safe to point out, "It really helps that this guy's a bit on the shorter side, too. As well. You know. " He subtly tilts his head in Jay's direction.

Khun nods, his eyes never leaving the stage. When the dancers finish and are led off they all follow, slipping backstage. Once the Doctor uses the psychic paper to give them free access, it takes only a few minutes to locate the talent and convince Wooyoung, so they find out his name is, that life with the band will be much better than life with his dance troupe.

Wooyoung doesn't even say goodbye to his troupe, instead leaving immediately with the Doctor. "They didn't like me, anyway," he explains, pouting. "I only filled in once because someone else fainted, and then the audience kept asking for me. It's not my fault."

"Of course not," Khun says, patting him on the back.

"Fo' real," Jay agrees.

"Yah," Taecyeon says, moving up behind Wooyoung to tug on his yellow patterned shirt, "are you wearing pajamas?"

+

After a quick round of karaoke in the TARDIS' noraebang, it becomes astonishingly clear that, of the four members he has gathered so far, only two of them have anything approaching a decent voice—and even then, they're going to need a bit of training. Of the other two, Khun only has average ability, Taec really wasn't lying when he warned the Doctor about his… assets, or lack thereof, and the Doctor _may_ be beginning to worry a little.

They need a Voice. They need someone who will be able to carry the band musically. It's just too bad that the Doctor has somehow inadvertently made an enemy of the Daegus, the most musically-gifted species in all the known universes, and has managed to do so in every era they have (which, to be fair, isn't really all that many).

The Doctor, though, is not deterred that easily. Once on-planet, all it takes is little bit of rambling, and perhaps a blinding smile or two, and he manages to convince the bouncer of the nearest club to let them in. Soon enough, Jay and Wooyoung are betting on Taec and Nichkhun's drinking competition while the they all sit through singer after fantastic singer. And they are all amazing—the Daegus never fail to impress—it's just that none of them are _right_.

He is about to give up and admit defeat when the last singer comes on, and something about him catches his attention straight away.

"Uh, hello," the guy says, waving awkwardly, smiling to reveal teeth with a little too much gum, "my name is Junsu. I hope you enjoy my songs. I will try my hardest." It’s a bit dorky, but it’s endearing and he bows before stumbling over the microphone cord. Jay sniggers and Khun shushes him.

Junsu turns red, steadies himself, and takes a breath. And then he starts to sing.

"Shit, brah," Taec says, accidentally slipping into Gangsta.

The Doctor nods, Wooyoung mirroring him comically. "Exactly."

+

Junho is neither an accident nor a coincidence. He is, by far, the best performer at the 2047 Galaxy-Wide Talent Show, and that's probably why he wins. He has just the right combination of talents to catch anyone's eye—he has the ability to b-boy like Jay, dance like Woo, is only rivaled vocally by Junsu, has the easy charm of Taecyeon and he is quite good-looking, albeit in a different way to Khun. 

He's got the whole package going for him, and the Doctor knows that this band needs him. But then, he also knows that the thirty other talent scouts from alien planets all over the universe think they need him, too. The key is, really, to show Junho just how much _he_ needs this _band_.

If only, he thinks, as he watches the other members try—and fail—to bellydance like the three-bellied Hyrtans, any of the other boys were slightly more convincing.

Still, they've got a better chance than the Slitheen jazz band that are trying to bag him right now, so the Doctor takes his chance and swoops in, grabbing Junho's sleeve and pulling him to safety before the farting starts.

"Get a bit gassy, they do," he says, wrinkling his nose, "trust me, you're better off."

Junho raises his eyebrows, but follows him semi-willingly into the tiny alcove backstage where he's parked the TARDIS. "So I should be thanking you, should I?"

"Not yet. Maybe save that for when I present you with the best gig offer you're ever going to receive, and you accept it. I think being thankful then would be much more appropriate, don’t you?"

He looks amused, his eyes curling into small half-moons, but he manages to school his mouth into a firm line. "I see. That's a very presumptuous thing to say."

"Well, you say presumptuous, I say tomato." Junho just looks confused, so he continues quickly, "Look, you've got lots of people who want you, right? Right. And there's only going to be more, but the truth is, this really is the best deal you're going to get."

Junho crosses his arms, cocking his head and looking directly into the Doctor's eyes. "Why?"

"Because these boys are going to become your brothers. Haven't you always wanted that?" He steps closer, moving in for the kill. "This can be a lonely business, you know that. Being lonely never did anyone any good, trust me, I know. And so, I think, do you." He pauses for effect and Junho blinks rapidly, wavering, as the Doctor leans back again to seal the deal, adding, "Oh, and did I mention? My spaceship's bigger on the inside." He casually pushes a door open and moves aside.

Junho's eyes widen. "What…" He steps into the doorway, staring into the TARDIS. "What…"

"Hey, yo," Jay calls from across the stage, eyes on Junho, "who is that _fine_ piece of ass?"

"It's a boy, Jaebum," Nichkhun warns, exchanging amused glances with the Doctor.

"What? Khun, you so frontin', ain't no way that's—holy shit, it's a homie!" he shrieks, as Junho begins to make his way around the outside of the phone box, looking, as they all do, for the rest of her. Jay bolts, running past them and into the TARDIS, cheeks flaming and arms flailing. The others all follow, Nichkhun pausing to pat Junho on the shoulder. Wooyoung is last, and he watches, frowning, as Junho looks into the TARDIS, then at the Doctor, then back at the TARDIS, before pushing his hair back in disbelief. 

"Heeeey," Wooyoung says finally, eyes widening in recognition, "I know what it is, now! You look exactly like—"

"Don't say it." Junho snaps out of his daze and glares. "Don't _ever_ say it."

Wooyoung salutes and heads inside. Junho, pausing only for another second, makes his decision and follows.

The Doctor grins.

+

Honestly, the Doctor thinks, six guys seem like enough. They have dancers, rappers and singers, now, and he can't quite think of the qualities that a seventh member could bring to the group. It seems like a waste of everyone's time to stage a grand, epic search for someone they don't even need, so the Doctor decides it's time for a small break, idling in the time vortex as he thinks. He leans against the console and watches his new recruits interacting.

They are, he observes, still very stiff with each other. They've kind of split into three groups of two—Jay and Taec have a weird little partnership full of abuse, Khun and Wooyoung have barely left each others' sides, and Junsu and Junho are the leftovers, together because they have no choice. Cliques, however, do not form a unified group. The Doctor wishes they'd just get over their insecurities and shyness and bond already, because he wasn't asked to be a facilitator, as well, and he has never been good at this kind of touchy-feely stuff. That's what his… well. What his companions were for.

Among other things.

"Excuse me," Junsu says, approaching him quietly, and the Doctor turns to smile at him, happy for the distraction. "I heard that there was a planet that had dogs with no noses."

The Doctor blinks, feeling that familiar painful rush of memories at the mention of it, and Junsu must see it because he steps closer, putting a hand on his arm.

"Are you okay?"

He forces down his emotions, because that's what he does, that's what he always does, and says brightly, "What, you mean Barcelona? You wanna go?"

Junsu is still frowning. "If it's not too much trouble…"

"There's no such thing as too much trouble," he grins. "I'm a firm believer in that philosophy." And he performs the necessary console dance, landing and leading them out to find they're in the middle of a large, blue-grassed park. There are dogs with no noses everywhere, and the boys soon break into their pairs to coo over them. The Doctor, feeling rather peckish and attempting to ignore everything that he associates with dogs with no noses, decides that the occasion calls for food and makes his way over to a nearby banana peddler who's pushing his cart along a path.

"Uh, hiya," the Doctor says, with only semi-forced cheer—it's a banana peddler! Who peddles bananas!—"how much is one banana?"

The guy looks up, and the Doctor is suddenly and unexpectedly struck dumb by the shininess of his hair—it's long, and thick, and so ridiculously luxurious the Doctor almost leans forward and runs his fingers through it.

"Your hair is amazing!" he says, before he can stop himself. He slips on his glasses and circles the peddler slowly, fascinated by the smooth strands. "No really, I've seen some really, _really_ great hair, but yours is just…" He takes a few steps back, admiring the view from further away. "Wow. It's brilliant!"

The peddler grins. "Thanks!" He sticks his hand out. "Chansung. And for you, the bananas are free." The Doctor shakes his hand, beaming back as Chansung then offers him a bunch of bananas. He takes them, suddenly thinking about how when in doubt, there's always hairography, and that Chansung is probably the most openly friendly person he's met in a long time, who just exudes warmth from every pore, and that maybe, just maybe, his certain breed of benevolence might come in handy... 

He's about to ask Chansung a very subtle question about his music preferences when he hears,

"Yo, sup, Doc?" and Jay joins them, with Taecyeon in tow. His eyes light up as he spots the bananas. "Man, I gotsta have me one of those, cause I am _hun_ gry!" He rips a banana off and nods at Chansung. "Who's he?"

"This," the Doctor announces as the other four amble over as well, "is Chansung. He's a banana peddler."

"Hi!" Chansung waves.

"Great hair," Junsu blurts, blushing, but Khun nods in agreement. Chansung shoves bananas in both of their hands, and, soon enough, all eight of them are standing around Chansung's cart, chewing.

"So, is he the new guy?" Junho asks, after a few moments of semi-awkward silence.

"Well, now, that I don't know." The Doctor turns to him. "Are you?"

Chansung shrugs, slipping an arm around Junho's shoulders, who doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. "Okay." He has no idea what they're talking about, but that doesn't seem to matter, either.

"What? You fo' real?" Jay exclaims, glaring _all the way up_ at Chansung, but Taecyeon already knows the drill by now, and drags him away quickly, before he can protest any more.

+

None of them have ever been to Earth, and, since it's their heritage, the Doctor decides there's no better place to take them as a last hurrah before heading back to JYPE. He chooses his favourite era, and soon enough the eight of them stand on a grassy clifftop overlooking the Pacific Ocean in the 21st Century, the sun shining and the sea sparkling. 

As soon as they get over the newness of everything, his companions immediately start causing havoc, play-fighting and wrestling and shouting. The Doctor tries not to think about the last time he had such a large crowd of people on the TARDIS, instead closing his eyes and choosing to focus on the wind ruffling his hair, the soft grass beneath his feet, the waves crashing below them, and the now-united timelines of the seven boys behind him. The last time he felt this relaxed was… well, he can’t remember. Now there's something to brood about.

"Yo, Doc," Jay says, panting, having just spent a considerable amount of time whacking Taecyeon across the head with Wooyoung's fan, "What time's it now?"

"On which planet?" he asks, hands in pockets, eyes still closed. 

Jay sighs. "This one," he says, like it's obvious, and the Doctor's about to deliver a scathing retort, but he finally glances over to see that they've all stopped playing around, and are watching him, instead, emotions written so plainly and naively over their faces, varying combinations of anxiety and wonder and excitement and hope.

Nichkhun wraps his arms around Wooyoung's waist and Chansung does the same to him, forming a line, as Junho grabs Junsu's hand, who props his free arm on Taecyeon's shoulder, who, in turn, pulls Jay back and rests his chin on his head. Jay grunts in surprise but doesn't pull away, and the Doctor shakes his head fondly. 

"It's 2PM," he tells them, and if anyone should know, it's him.

"Are you sure?" Junho looks unconvinced. "You didn't even check."

The Doctor rolls his eyes. "I didn’t have to. I just know."

There's a meaningful pause, before Jay says, "That's hot," and then goes back to abusing Taecyeon.


End file.
